Confusing Owls
by dandelion-wishes
Summary: One night, Harry receives a mysterious note... but it wasn't meant for him. The owls are all mixed up at Hogwarts in Harry's 6th year! Who's behind it and what's going to happen now?
1. A Mysterious Letter

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Please tell me what you think and review! :)

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**Chapter 1: A Mysterious Letter**

The rain beat against the dormitory window. Harry lay in his bed as he listened to the hard, pounding rhythm. It was relaxing, but he still could not fall asleep. He closed his eyes, hoping that he might be able to drift into peace, if only for a minute. The rain continued to patter. Pit pat, pit pat. THUD.

Harry leaped up. What was that?? He looked around, but his roommates continued sleeping soundly. He peered outside, and noticed a strange, struggling object, attempting to get inside. The rain was obviously keeping it down. Harry immediately recognized what it was, and opened the window momentarily to let it in.

The brief explosion of wind and water didn't even cause a stir among his companions. Harry was thankful for this, because he would have a hard time explaining what he was doing in the middle of the night with his pajamas half soaked.

The object was a small, mahogany owl, with a letter tied to its leg. He ripped open the envelope, and read the small note scribbled inside:

_Meet me by the willow at the next new moon._

It had no signature of whom it could be from and Harry didn't recognize the handwriting. The paper was perfectly dry, although it was pouring outside. Harry assumed whoever he/she was used the same charm Hermione used on his glasses once to keep the rain out at a Quidditch match.

The owl gave a weak hoot and fluttered its wings to rid itself of the rain that was dampening its feathers. Who could be sending him an owl at this time of night? As far as he knew, all the owls were at the Owlery, dry and sleeping, like he should be.

He stared at the paper again. _Meet me by the willow at the next new moon. _He peeped outside again, the moon was a slim silver crescent, dangling in the sky. He assumed what the author meant by willow to mean the Whomping Willow, but what could this person want, from him?

This was actually a very stupid thing to ask, because, after all, he _was _the famous Harry Potter. He still got strange looks and stares, (even though he was in his sixth year now), from his fellow peers. And there _was _that whole thing with Lord Voldemort wanting to kill him.

So what should he do?

His first impulse was to wake up Ron and Hermione and ask them for their opinions, but he knew they would tell him not to. He was still in danger, and he couldn't afford to do anything rash, but his curiosity nagged him to go the other way. He knew, from his many past experiences that he always ended up hurting someone when he tried to do what he wasn't supposed to. Was it worth the risk?

Yet he couldn't just pretend it never happened. Because it did, and he wanted to know what this person could want from him, and why they had to be so secretive. It had to be something important, urgent, even. Why else would they send an owl at night, when it was pouring?

He looked out the window again. The rain had slowed to a soft sprinkle. The owl gave a stronger hoot, gave Harry a gentle peck on his wrist, and flew out as Harry opened the window.

Harry watched the owl fly away, until he realized he had been staring into space for at least ten minutes. He folded the note and stuck it under his pillow. He had time; he would think more about it tomorrow. Right now, he needed some sleep.

Harry woke to Ron's shaking. "Harry! Get up!"

Harry rolled over. And buried his face into his pillow. Ron sighed, grabbed Harry's ankles and dragged him off the bed. "Come on mate! YOU HAVE TO GET UP!"

Harry grabbed his pillow as his frustrated friend yanked him onto the ground. His sheets flew off the bed, and tumbled on top of him. The note fluttered by Ron's feet.

"Hey...what's this?"

Ron kneeled down to pick it up, and opened it, but before he could read a word, Harry jumped up and snatched it away. "It's nothing!" He folded it up again, and stuck it in the drawer of his dresser.

Ron stared at Harry suspiciously. "If it's something private, all right, but don't have a cow. You know you can still talk about it with me and Hermione, you know."

"I'll be in the common room with Hermione if you, you know, want to talk or something. We brought you some breakfast. It's almost eleven, you know, we figured you're probably starving." He left Harry, both of them feeling flustered.

If Harry knew Ron, which he did, he would have heard the hurt in his voice. _Well, it serves him right, meddling in other people's private businesses like that._ Yet Harry knew very well that he should have told his friends. But...he sighed. _I'll tell them right now._

He opened the drawer, and stuck the note in his pocket.

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So... What can I improve on? (How is it for my first fanfic?) I'd love to hear from you... any comments, insults, etc., are all appreciated! 

Have a cookie!


	2. Objections

Disclaimer: Again, I own nothing.

Squeaky-toy-123-Thanks for taking a look at my story.

Freakyfairy-You were right about it being sort of choppy. I was going to make them two separate chapters, but it was too short, so when I combined the two, I didn't notice the choppiness. Thanks for pointing it out, I'll be more careful next time.

Irk-Yes I will be writing more. I'm glad to hear somebody likes it. )

Chapter 2: Objections

After Harry put on some baggy clothes, he headed to the common room, prepared to tell Ron and Hermione about what had happened last night. _I hate my conscience_, he thought to himself, thinking about how harsh he had sounded.

The note was now clenched in his fist, because he was afraid that it would fall out if he left it in his pocket. Before he was completely in the common room, or before anybody could see him, he heard Ron and Hermione speaking in low voices. About him, no less.

"He's hiding something from us again. You know that has to be something bad." That was Ron.

"Are you sure? Maybe he's just not ready to talk to us. I'm sure if he feels like it's something we can discuss, he'll tell us." The worried voice was Hermione.

"Hermione! This is _Harry _we're talking about. What if he gets killed, what if-"

"What if he overheard almost everything you just said?" Harry revealed himself to his friends.

Ron looked dumbfounded, but Hermione looked kind of scared. "H-H-Harry, we, I mean, I didn't, I mean, Hermione said, but you know, we didn't... We were worried! All right??" Ron sat back, his face looking confused and frustrated.

"Harry, please don't get angry again." Hermione said, her eyes worried, remembering how he had reacted the summer in their fifth year. "Ron seemed so alarmed that you were hiding something again. We thought... I don't know what we thought, but we expected the worst. You know us! Harry, we're on your side. Don't ever forget that."

Harry, his eyes which had gone cold, regained their warmth once he heard the concern in Hermione's voice. "Don't be silly. I'm not mad." He tried to smile as he pulled up a chair next to them. "So what do you think of this?" He threw the crumpled piece of paper in Hermione's lap.

She unwrinkled the parchment gently and flattened it on her leg as she read out loud. "It says, 'Meet me by the willow at the next new moon.'" She paused, thinking hard. "There's no signature, and I don't know anyone who can scribble like this." She said, commenting on the author's messy scrawl.

She handed it to Ron, who said, "Nope. I don't recognize the handwriting either. Who do you suppose wrote it?"

"I got it in the middle of the night, from a small owl. It woke me up." Harry lied. _Small white lies won't hurt. _

Hermione looked at him suspiciously, but decided to ignore the comment. "Well, one reasonable explanation is that Voldemort sent it to him."

Ron took a sharp breath when he heard the Dark Lord's name, but added, "I don't think you should go, Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes at this. His friends could be such worry-warts some time, and he told them this. "Don't be such a worry-wart."

"He's right Harry! You'd be playing right into his hands!"

"You could get killed!"

"And Dumbledore can't cover up for you anymore, you'll get expelled!"

"And my mum would kill _me_ if she heard I let you go out there by yourself!"

"And what if-"

"_ALL RIGHT!_" Harry shouted. He knew his friends would say things like this. "I get the point."

"Harry, you're not going to go, are you? You can't..." Hermione said.

Harry chose not to reply. His stomach rumbled, reminding him how hungry he was. "Hey, where's that breakfast you said you brought me Ron?" He asked, quickly changing the subject.

Ron pulled out a couple of rolls from sweater pocket. "Here. They're sort of smashed, but they taste good anyways."

Hermione looked at Harry in complete disgust as he gobbled down the squished rolls.

"What?" Harry asked, after he had finished stuffing his face.

Hermione shook her head. "Harry, don't go. You can't risk so much again." She added the word _again_ to emphasize what had happened last year, when Sirius had died because Harry had done something without thinking things through.

Harry apparently, heard what she meant. He stuffed the note into his pocket, and strode out of the common room, not listening to the "HARRY!" and the "WAIT!"

Once he was outside, he realized he had nowhere to go. Classes did not begin till tomorrow, so he had no homework to do. _I'll visit Hagrid, he'll agree with me that I should go._

He walked briskly to the cottage, only to be stopped when he heard a callous voice say, "Potter."

Harry stopped in his tracks, and turned to face a handsome blonde boy about his age. "I don't have time to play games Malfoy." He said in contempt.

"What's the rush? Off to see that big oaf again?" He sneered.

"Hagrid is not an oaf." Harry said, his temper already rising.

"You're right. He's a gigantic, enormous oaf who shouldn't be-"

But before he could finish, Harry had pulled out his wand, raised and pointed directly at Draco's heart.

"You want to kill me Potter?" He asked quietly. "Try. You can't do it." He seemed overly sure of himself.

Harry only glared at him, but he lowered his arm.

"That's what I thought," Malfoy said, "You can't do it. You think you're so much better than everyone, but you're just a half-blood, hanging out with werewolfs and Mudbloods and oafs." He laughed coldly.

This did it. Harry took out his wand again, and bellowed, "**_CRU-"_**

Malfoy looked shocked, but smirked when he saw who was watching them.

"**_POTTER!_**" Harry heard an all too familiar voice yelling at him. "**_JUST WHAT IN HEAVEN'S NAME DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING???_**"

Muahaha... Is this a cliff-hanger? Not as good as I could make it I guess... but... I need _something_ to keep you guys interested. "

Ciao!


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